


In Suburbia

by snarled_musings



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: First Time, Humor, M/M, Phone Sex, Possessive Behavior, Rimming, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-02
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-13 19:08:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/827806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarled_musings/pseuds/snarled_musings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reese gets help to catch Finch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Suburbia

**Author's Note:**

> Slight spoilers for "The high road". This is close to crack, so it's a bit OOC. Sorry 'bout that...

John rubbed the bridge of his nose and glared down at himself. This was a nightmare; there was no way this was really happening. Zoe looked at him, face mirroring his horror.

 

”You so owe me for this!”

 

John didn't even bother arguing. It would take years to repay this debt. ”You can keep the ring, for starters.” Zoe's left eye twitched.

 

”That's the least you can do, _honey_.” She looked into the closet. ”There are _cardigans_ here. Are you expecting me to wear a _cardigan_?” Her voice was dripping with disdain. John stared into his wardrobe with equal disdain.

 

”Finch, are you expecting me to wear _shorts_? Even I have my limits and boundaries.” Finch's voice sounded over the ear piece. It was clear he was struggling really hard to sound as usual, and he was failing miserably.

 

“You're supposed to blend in, Mr. Reese. You wont do that in your suit.”

 

“But there are t-shirts here! T-shirts meant to be worn without a shirt over it!” His plaintive tone made even Zoe snort a laugh. He leveled his glare at her. She shrugged, unrepentant, and started rummaging through the closet. He couldn't resist; he gave her a minute eye roll.

 

“Yes there are, and you are supposed to wear them. You are in the suburbs now, Mr. Reese. Act like it. Blend in.”

 

“I'll have Bear eat all the clothes,” John muttered darkly as he terminated the call. He shoved an arm into the closet and grabbed the first thing he laid hands on. A pair of flower-patterned surfer shorts came out. Zoe stared at them for an instant before dissolving into hysterical laughter.

 

“Please put them on! I'll do anything!” John couldn't help it, her laughter was infectious. With a shrug and a minute smile he stripped down to his boxers before slipping into the damnable shorts. Mischievously he struck a pose. Zoe fumbled for her phone and snapped a photo. John glowered at her as she tapped at her phone.

 

“Who did you just send that picture to?” His phone beeped two seconds later. He looked down on it.

 

_I'm not entirely sure your new look is right for you, Mr. Reese. But it's good to see you are keeping in shape._ He stared at Zoe. “You sent it to _Finch_?” She gave a grin and an unapologetic shrug. He threw the damn things off and pulled out a pair of dark blue slacks and a light blue tennis shirt. Zoe looked at him with raised eye brows.

 

“John? You do know I'm still in the room, and you're practically naked?” He looked at her, surprise mingled with confusion all over his face.

 

“So?”

 

“You do know we're not married for real? You're way too comfortable with partial nudity around me; unless you plan to seduce me?” John wasn't sure how he was supposed to interpret her expression. He didn't know if she wanted him to seduce her or not, but he knew he had no interest in that particular pursuit. It was like standing in a mine field all over again. He figured honesty was probably the best way to go.

 

“I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I didn't think; I'm used to changing on the spot, with minimal cover. I'll be more modest.” Zoe grinned at him.

 

“Don't bother on my account. I assume that's your way of saying you won't seduce me, so that means I can safely enjoy the view. I figured you were taken, good to have it confirmed.” John stopped with the slacks hanging open on his hips, arms tangled in the shirt sleeves. What was she talking about? “Yeah, I figured Finch had claimed you.”

 

John's mouth dropped open while his face grew flushed. “What, no!” His voice actually rose an octave and lost the usual sardonic tone. “I'm not claimed by anyone!” Zoe's lips quirked in amusement as he huffily pulled on the clothes properly.

 

“Don't get your panties in a twist. I was so sure the two of you had finally gotten it together for real.”

 

“We have, we work together more smoothly than ever. I doubt we can get much better than this.” John glared at her, daring her to continue. With a blithe smile she did:

 

“I mean gotten together- gotten together. Come on, I've seen the looks, the glances, the touches. Are you saying you're not a couple?” John swallowed hard and tried to keep the panic from his voice. He failed.

 

“You noticed?!” He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. It wouldn't do any good to lose his head and scream at her. “I mean, what's to notice?” He spun around and stalked out of the room and over to the bar. Thank god Finch had stocked the bar. He poured himself a large scotch and swallowed half of it in a single gulp. Zoe went after him, looking like she didn't know whether to laugh or hug him. She snagged the glass from him and gulped the rest of it down, before forcing him to sit down. Then she hunched down in front of him. John reflected that he'd done that countless times with different numbers to make himself seem less threatening.

 

“John, I've seen the way you look at each other. I know what you do for each other. Are you telling me you're not in love?” He got up, nearly toppling her over with his abruptness. He refilled his glass, pouring a second one for her. He handed it over as he sat down again, leaning forward to put his head in his hands. Zoe patted his knee in a friendly gesture and he found he was starving to unburden himself. He was so far from his comfort zone anyway, he might as well spit it out. Worst-case scenario he'd have to kill her afterward.

 

“I am, he's not. Is it really that obvious?” He looked at her pleadingly. She patted the knee again and took a sip of her drink. Her smile was amused again.

 

“John, it's glaringly obvious. What I don't get is how you can sit there and say it's not mutual. Like I said: the looks, all the small touches, the sniping at each other, the bickering... you even own a dog together!” As if on cue Bear padded into the room, dropping down next to John. “Are you really that stupid?”

 

John gave a twitch at her exasperated tone. He'd really thought he'd been better at hiding his feelings for Finch. The man was his friend, his savior... his boss. You just didn't make a move on your boss. Who had given no indication he had any sexual inclinations towards other men.

 

“Okay, yeah, I have feelings for him. But I'm his tool, an extension of him. I'm a utility, nothing more. He worries about me because losing me would damage the cause. So no, I've been trying to sublimate and suppress.” She shook her head.

 

“You've done a bang-up job so far. You know you're a really smart guy, John. How can you be so damn stupid? He's just as scared as you are, and just as much in love with you as you are with him. Really, do something about it!”

 

“Do something about what, Mr. Reese? Any developments so far?” John gave a startled yelp and shot to his feet, which had Bear up in an instant. John tangled his legs over him and nearly stumbled. Zoe burst out laughing and called “Hello, Finch!”

 

“No developments so far. I've made a plan how to make contact with Wyler and his wife. We've just gotten installed, then we're on it.” He was close to breaking out in a cold sweat. Damn it, for a while he'd forgotten that Finch was in contact with him. He blushed and for some reason looked at Zoe beseechingly. She took pity on him and turned the phone to speaker.

 

“Don't worry about us, Finch. We just need to lie low. We can't be the quirky couple, that won't get us closer to the marks.”

 

“You're absolutely correct, Ms. Morgan. Oh, Mr Reese? Are you still wearing those shorts? They matched your eyes.”

 

“Of course he is! I asked him to keep them on. You can't blame me for wanting to enjoy the view. We're stuck in purgatory, also known as the suburbs. The only perk is I'm stuck here with John, so excuse me for trying to make the most of it.” Zoe's voice was a predatory purr, which totally contrasted with the teasing smirk on her face. She waggled her eyebrows at John, who lowered his in a baffled frown. What was she up to? She gave him thumbs up and rang off with a cheerful “Bye Finch!”

 

“What are you doing?” His eyebrows rose in question.

 

“I'm helping you. A little jealousy goes a long way.” He opened his mouth to answer, but the doorbell interrupted him. He automatically drew his gun, but put it away at Zoe's admonition. And just like that a first contact was made. He looked at Zoe in astonishment.

 

“Well, that went a lot easier than expected!” They went to change, John pulling on the clothes he'd laid out earlier while Zoe dressed in jeans, a top and a cardigan. John smirked at her as he put an arm casually around her shoulder. She laughed and punched his arm.

 

“Let's do this, lover-boy. Watch out, suburbia, here we come!” He laughed as he rang the door. Connie Wyler opened and led them to the back yard. John accepted the beer offered and situated himself next to Graham by the barbecue. He was surprised to find that he was actually enjoying talking to Graham. But there was no doubt he was hiding something. John had kept enough secrets in his life to recognize all the signs. The question was just: what?

 

The evening drew to a close, and John and Zoe headed back “home”. John gladly accepted Zoe's proposition of scotch and poker. He was in no mood to go to bed. The whole place had him feeling antsy. It was so damn normal it set his teeth on edge. He was just reaching for his winnings when his phone rang. He reached up to answer when Zoe stopped him.

 

“Follow my lead here. Make your voice deeper, and slightly breathless. He doesn't have any cameras in here, right?” John shook his head mutely. “And if you don't pick up?”

 

“He can patch the call through so he can listen in on me.” Her smile was brilliant.

 

“Excellent! We're going to give Finch a show, let him believe we're doing something else entirely. Let's have some fun, John!” The call ended, and the phone began ringing immediately. He couldn't help it, once more that mischievous side kicked in. Zoe raised an eyebrow in question, waiting for John's signal that Finch was listening. He gave a nod at the same time that he gave a deep groan. She mimed applauding him, impressed by his quickness, and gave a moan in answer.

 

“Oh, yeah! God, that feels so good, John!” He felt a slight curl of arousal even though it was only an act. She was damn convincing, he had to give her that. Well, he could be just as convincing.

 

“Ah, do that again Zoe. You feel so good.” He let his breath hitch and waggled his eyebrows at her. She grinned, a slight flush on her face. “Yeah, so good!” He could see her stifling a giggle. This was kinky as hell, and just plain fun. Obviously Zoe thought so as well. She gestured at John's ear and raised an eyebrow in question. He could hear Finch's faint breathing and gave thumbs up.

 

“I've dreamed of this for so long. Let me suck you.” It was a bit embarrassing that he didn't have to fake the hitch in his breathing. Zoe bit down on her lip before she made the most obscene slurping sound and John gave a moan. Once more it wasn't entirely faked, but he decided to ignore that. This wasn't so much different than watching porn; he didn't always want to participate in that fantasy either. Then he heard it, the small unmistakable sound of a shaky sigh. Finch was still listening. He gave Zoe another nod and made a choked moan. He wondered how long Finch intended to listen in. Would they really have to fake the entire sex act? He had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. This might be one of the most absurd things he'd ever experienced. He decided to play his part in full. He gave her a challenging look before drawing a harsh breath.

 

“Yeah, that's it. I love when you drag your teeth along my length.” His voice was a soft rasp. “Jesus Zoe, are you trying to kill me?” He let his voice trail into moans before continuing: “Close, so close. Please, suck me harder!” Then he cried out, gave a rough moan and panted harshly. Zoe stared at him in open-mouthed admiration and he gave a satisfied laugh. That's when he heard the click indicating the call was terminated and his laugh turned genuine.

 

“You are insane! This is among the craziest things I've ever done.”

 

“Honestly? I'm so hot for you right now,” she answered with a grin. “That was damn sexy. Do you really sound like that during sex?” He smirked.

 

“More or less, yeah.” She shook her head and sighed.

 

“Finch is a lucky bastard. Well, I'm off for a cold shower and bed. Do not disturb me unless you want an eyeful.” John snorted. A tiny part of him was _almost_ tempted; then he wondered what Finch was doing. He doubted they'd been compromised, which meant Finch had listened in on what he'd must have assumed was John having sex with Zoe. He wondered what he'd thought of the performance.

 

 

* * *

 

 

He gave a sigh of satisfaction as he pulled his suit jacket back on. It was good to be back. Obviously Bear thought so too as he gave a contented sigh from his doggy bed. He adjusted the collar and placed his gun at the small of his back.

 

“Welcome back, Mr. Reese. I trust you had an interesting stay?” John shuddered.

 

“Please sell that house, Finch. Don't make me go out to the suburbs again; it's some sort of parallel universe where everyone's freakishly friendly. I don't think I've ever been so out of my depth.”

 

“Your cover was in-depth enough,” Finch said abruptly. John turned to give him an innocent look and his eyes grew wide. There was banked heat in Finch's eyes, and his face was drawn tight in anger. “I tried to get a hold of you a couple of nights ago. Seems she was faster than I.”

 

“Wait a minute, were you listening to us, Finch?” He'd expected Finch to blush and back down, instead his boss's face grew even more taut with tension. To his amazement John felt himself hardening in his pants. He'd never seen Finch look like that before. Anger suited him. “What did you think?” He gave a minute smirk, which dropped an instant later as Finch crowded his space, pressing him back against the table.

 

“I think she should keep her hands off you.” The words were a bitten-off growl, the threat clear. John was almost fully hard as he swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. He found he had no desire to keep leading Finch on. This was more of a reaction than he'd ever dreamed of. Maybe Zoe was right and there was something there from Finch's side as well. He decided to come clean.

 

“Is that so? Then you're lucky we were only playing you. She didn't touch me.” John gave a crooked smile. “She's not my type; I'm more of a 'short hair and glasses'-man. What happened next took him completely by surprise, and he'd been trained to anticipate everything. Finch grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around viciously, pressing his chest down to the table top. John was so completely unprepared that he just let it happen. Finch reached around him, jerkily unbuckling his belt and tearing his slacks open to palm his cock. John's head fell back with a small sound.

 

“So you were faking it? Then I want to know how you sound when you come for real, Mr. Reese. If you have any objections, please voice them now.” He pulled on John's hard cock. Who'd have guessed that Finch had such a completely dominant side? Luckily John was not above some submission if it got him what he wanted. And he wanted this oh so much.

 

“No- no objections here, Finch.” His voice shook. “I'm all yours.”

 

“That you are indeed, Mr. Reese. You'd do well to remember that for future reference.” With that Finch pushed John's pants and underwear off his hips to pool around his ankles. Finch gripped his hips firmly. John twisted his head to see Finch using them as support as he lowered himself to his knees. Firm hands spread his ass wide open and hot breath puffed over his exposed hole. The next moment John was pushing at the desk, making helpless whining noises as Finch's tongue lapped at him. His legs threatened to give out on him and his hips jerked of their own volition, pushing into that touch. Finch made a sound and pushed his tongue inside John. That drew a sharp cry from John. Suddenly he was glad he was lying over the table, there was no way his legs would have carried him. Finch withdrew and pushed back in, fucking him with his tongue.

 

“Jesus, oh god, please fuck me! Want you, want more, need to feel you. Been wanting this so long, don't make me wait. Just fuck me, take me, _please_!” John had never been taken like this before. He was the one calling the shots in situations like this. But Finch had him reduced to a needful, begging mess of pure desire. He needed Finch inside him, he needed to come... He was close to tears because of pent-up frustration. Finch got to his feet painfully, desperately fumbling with his fly. John looked at the straining erection he pulled out. He had a moment of trepidation before Finch slammed home. There was little preparation and the sudden stretch and burning pain stole his breath. It hurt, but in the right way, making him throb and feel _alive_. Finch stilled, groaning softly.

 

“Are you okay?” John shook his head violently.

 

“Don't ask that, don't be gentle. _Just take me_!” He actually screamed the last, pushing back on Finch. The older man took command again, pulling back before slamming back in again. John raised his hips to meet the next thrust and Finch's blunt cock found a magic spot inside him. Another cry tore from him and his entire body shuddered. Finch made sure to keep that angle, gasping with exertion as he fucked into John. His hand slipped around to grasp John's cock, pulling in time to his thrusts. A small part of John's brain realized this must be hell on Finch, but the bigger part was just begging for release. Finch dragged blunt nails over the head of his cock as he pushed inside again and orgasm hit John like a freight train. His spine bowed as he frantically clawed at the table, screams tearing from him as fast as he could draw breath. He clenched around Finch and with a sound close to a sob Finch found release inside him. His hips stuttered into John a few more times before he fell against John's back. Both their hearts were racing. Finch withdrew with a groan, echoed by John, and stumbled over to fall into his chair unceremoniously. John reared up on his elbows. His hair was matted with sweat, his chest had been practically stuck to the table. He was absolutely soaked, he was sore in unmentionable places. He was feeling absolutely brilliant. He gave Finch a lazy grin.

 

“Wow, I didn't know you had _this_ in you, Finch. Remember to piss you off more often.”

 

“You can have sex even if I'm not upset with you, John.” And there it was, the clincher. Relief flooded him as he shakily pulled his pants up, basking in hearing Finch call him by his real name in such an intimate situation. He made his way over to Finch, gently putting his arms around the smaller man.

 

“And if I don't want sex? If I just want to, say, cuddle?” He let his voice be an intimate whisper in Finch's ear. Finch drew an unsteady breath.

 

“You can have anything you want.”

 

“Can I have you, Harold?” Finch stiffened for a moment before relaxing into the embrace. He twisted around to look up at John.

 

“You already do.” John bent down to kiss Harold, slow and gentle. It felt like coming home.

 

 


End file.
